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16

Bridger

E very step that brings me closer to my father’s office has my pulse thrumming with irritation. This is exactly what I didn’t need today.

All right, let’s be honest… I don’t need an ass reaming from him any day of the week.

The eerie quiet of the hallway doesn’t help dispel the dread pooling at the bottom of my gut. I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t like this between us. After Mom picked up and left, everything got a whole hell of a lot worse.

I glance around the outer sanctum and find his secretary’s desk empty, which is unusual. Maybe luck is finally on my side and he’s not here.

Nothing would thrill me more.

I knock once and hear a muffled thud from inside, followed by the faint sound of rustling papers and the low hum of conversation.

Is it possible the old man is stroking out?

Again, nothing would thrill me?—

We’ll just leave it at that.

My brow furrows, and I’m about to rap my knuckles for a second time when the door creaks open and his secretary slips out. A flush fills her cheeks and her blouse is buttoned wrong. She avoids eye contact as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

My stomach twists with a sick mix of disbelief and disgust.

She looks like she could be my age.

And Dick has the audacity to lecture me about propriety?

Un-fucking-believable.

“Go on in,” she mumbles before scurrying to her desk.

With a shake of my head, I step inside and shut the door behind me. Dad is seated behind his massive mahogany desk, looking like the king of his little fiefdom. He glances up, his expression cool and unreadable. It’s the tension in his jaw that gives him away.

The man is pissed.

Maybe even embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising situation.

Tough shit for him.

Here’s an idea—don’t fuck around at work.

“You’re late,” he says in a clipped tone. “I expected you an hour ago.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize we’d set up an appointment,” I shoot back before glancing at the door as if I can see his secretary seated out front. “Kind of seems like I interrupted something important.”

Ignoring the comment, he points to the chair parked in front of the desk. “Sit your ass down.”

Instead of following the command, I stay put. I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible and get on with my day.

His eyes narrow when I don’t immediately fall into line, and he exhales slowly, as if trying to keep his temper in check. I’m surprised he’s making the effort. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t bother.

“Isn’t it enough that your unsavory activities have become public fodder, now you’re getting into fights on campus with your teammates? Is there no end to the humiliation you’re hell-bent on causing me?”

My jaw tenses. “It wasn’t a fight.”

“It looked moments away from becoming one. And for what?” There’s a beat of silence. “Some piece of ass?”

Anger surges inside me that he would refer to Holland that way. “She’s not a piece of ass.”

With a snort, he shakes his head. “Haven’t you figured out by now that they all are? Your mother was a perfect example. Couldn’t hack it and walked away, leaving me with a child to raise myself.”

My hands clench at my sides. As much as I want to defend my mother, I can’t. She wasn’t mentally or emotionally equipped to handle life with Dick. So, she took the easy way out and ran away as fast as she could. I can’t blame her for that. She should have taken me with her, though.

I remind myself that in a few months, I’ll be able to leave him behind too. Some days, it’s the only thing that gets me through.

“Have you forgotten that everything you do reflects on me? On this university? Perhaps you should give serious consideration to stepping away from the team. It’s become a distraction. An embarrassment.”

My eyes widen as his words whip around in my head.

Step away from the team?

They’re more of a family to me than he’ll ever be.

“No.”

He lifts a brow. “Excuse me?”

I straighten as tension fills my shoulders. “I said no. I won’t quit the team. Especially when we’re in the middle of playoffs.”

“Then maybe I’ll have a conversation with the coach myself. I’m sure he’ll see things my way.”

A disbelieving laugh falls from my lips as I shake my head. “You’d actually do that to me?”

His icy glare never wavers. “Yes, I would.”

My blood boils as the words shoot out of my mouth. “You do that, and I can’t guarantee people won’t find out that you’re screwing your secretary. What is she? Twenty-five or six?” I pop a brow. “Possibly younger?”

The room goes deathly quiet. I tighten my hands again to stop them from shaking.

Dick’s eyes darken and a muscle in his jaw tics as he rises from his chair with deliberate slowness. “Are you threatening me, you little shit? After everything I’ve done for you?”

The only thing he’s done is beat me down.

And I’m fucking over it.

I lift my chin and hold his stare. “I won’t quit the team.”

“You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do,” he barks, slamming his fist on the desk. The sound echoes in the room.

“How about we cut the crap.” I force out the words I’ve always secretly feared but hoped weren’t true. “You don’t give a damn about me. Only how I make you look.”

Disgust twists his lips, and any hope that he’d correct the mistaken belief is snuffed out. I’m an idiot for hoping that deep down, he actually cared about me but didn’t know how to express it. Turns out that’s just another lie I’ve been telling myself.

“You’ve always been so fucking difficult, not to mention a disappointment. Just like your mother. She should have aborted you when she had the chance. God knows I offered her the money to take care of it.”

The force of those words is like a punch to the gut, and air rushes from my lungs in a painful burst, making it impossible to breathe. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I always knew he felt this way. But hearing him say it cuts more than anticipated.

“I appreciate you letting me know how you feel,” I say, trying to keep any emotion from bleeding into my voice. “It’ll make walking away after graduation that much easier.”

Without waiting for a dismissal, I turn and stalk out, closing the door behind me. My heart pounds a painful staccato as hurt and anger buzz through my veins. I fucking hate the sting of tears that prick the backs of my eyes.

He’s never been so blunt about his feelings before.

As if he didn’t care if the mask fell away and I caught a glimpse of the real Richard Sanderson along with the hatred that lives in his heart where I’m concerned.

My head is a mess as I slide behind the wheel of my BMW and start the engine before peeling out of the parking lot and into the flow of afternoon traffic. It doesn’t take long before I’m going ten and then twenty miles over the speed limit. The sound of the engine roars in my ears, blotting out all the chaotic thoughts that fill my head. Instead of slowing, I press my foot harder on the gas pedal. My hands tighten around the steering wheel until my knuckles turn bone white.

Who knows?

Maybe the old man is right.

Maybe Mom should have gotten rid of me when she had the chance.

With my attention locked on the windshield, the town streaks by in a rush of color. The engine growls as I push the gas pedal harder than I should and the speedometer continues to steadily creep up until the road ahead blurs. My chest feels like it’s caving in as my father’s voice ricochets around in my head.

I grit my teeth, the weight of his words pressing harder with every mile. The faint glow of my phone catches my attention, a notification lighting up the screen where it rests on the passenger seat. My stomach clenches when I see the name.

FragileLikeABomb.

That’s all it takes for my foot to ease off the gas. The thought of ignoring her feels wrong, but I can’t text while driving like this. My hands are already trembling. I pull over to the side of the road, the tires crunching over gravel as I come to a stop.

The moment the car is in park, I rest my forehead against the steering wheel. My breath comes out in harsh, uneven bursts, and I fight the urge to punch something— anything —to rid myself of this frustration.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I repeat the pattern until the tightness in my chest starts to loosen. Slowly, I lift my head and reach for the phone, my thumb hovering over the screen.

FragileLikeABomb

Thanks for being there for me earlier. I really needed it.

Her message is like a balm over a raw wound, a reminder that not everything in my life is shit.

A reminder that someone, somewhere, gives a damn.

I take a deep breath and type back.

Me

You never have to thank me for that. I’ll always be here.

The response feels right, even though my hands are still shaking as I hit send. The reply comes quickly, like she was waiting for me to say something.

FragileLikeABomb

I mean it. You’re good people. How’s your day been?

I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the phone. Lying would be easier, but I don’t want to do that with her. Not when she’s the only one who gets it.

Me

Rough. Had an ugly run-in with my dad.

There.

It’s out.

Poison released into the atmosphere.

I lean back in the seat and stare at the screen as I wait for her reply. My pulse thuds in my ears as anticipation and dread twist together.

The typing bubble pops up and then her message appears.

FragileLikeABomb

I’m sorry. That sucks. Do you want to talk about it?

Her words stare back at me, offering a lifeline I didn’t realize I needed. My chest tightens again, but this time it’s different. It’s less suffocating. More like the release of a valve.

I run a hand through my hair, trying to decide if I can even put it into words. If there’s one person I can try to explain it to, though, it’s her.

Me

It’s just… him being him. He knows exactly where to hit me, and he never misses.

Her reply is immediate.

FragileLikeABomb

That’s brutal. You don’t deserve that.

The knot in my chest loosens a fraction more, her words cutting through the haze of anger and frustration. I don’t respond right away. Instead, I stare at her message like it’s something solid I can hold on to.

Me

Thanks. You’re good at this, you know.

FragileLikeABomb

At what?

Me

Making me feel like I’m not completely falling apart.

The pause before her next message feels longer than it probably is.

FragileLikeABomb

That’s because you’re not. Falling apart, I mean. You’re stronger than you think.

I let out a breath, some of the weight lifting from my shoulders.

Me

You’re good people, Fragile. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Her reply comes with a virtual eye roll.

FragileLikeABomb

Says the guy who is the definition of “good people.” Don’t even try to argue.

For the first time in hours, a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. She always has a way of turning the worst days into something manageable.

Other than my cousin, she’s the one person I can always count on to be there when shit goes south. She’s become important to me. Ironically, I have no idea what she looks like or the sound of her voice. We could pass each other on campus and not even know it. Every so often, I find myself scanning the crowd, my gaze landing on a random girl before wondering—is that her?

Or is it the chick she’s standing with?

Me

Fine. You win this one. But don’t get used to it.

FragileLikeABomb

Too late. I’m already celebrating.

I chuckle under my breath, the sound foreign after the day I’ve had. For the first time since I left my father’s office, I feel like I can breathe again.

Me

I should go. Talk soon?

FragileLikeABomb

Anytime you need.

I log off, a strange cocktail of emotions lingering in my mind. The hurt and anger have finally abated, and I know that has everything to do with this girl from the chat app. The one I don’t even know in real life.

The one I wish I did.

Would meeting up ruin our relationship? Or make it that much better?

I have no idea.

As soon as that thought pops into my head, an auburn-haired spitfire with a sharp tongue forces her way back into my thoughts.

And suddenly, all I want to do is see her.

Touch her.

I really hope she’s telling the truth and isn’t involved in these messages.

Only time will tell because, one way or another, I’m going to get to the bottom of it.

I just hope Holland isn’t the one I find there.